Saturday, 31 May 2008

Croesus was the king of Lydia until he got whupped by the Persians in about 547 BC. He was renowned for his great wealth so it's not surprising to find a mining company with that name - Croesus Mining NL. I bought some stock in them back in late 2004, 10,000 shares for $5,810 and then 1,000 more for $260 in January 2006. The details now escape me but they fell in a big hole financially despite having one of the highest grade gold mines in Australia. They went into administration but are back, bursting onto the stock market earlier this month, in a blaze of corporate nothingness. My outlay of $6,070 is now worth, wait for it...... $25. Yes, stunning isn't it. Another financial disaster.

After my last post The Dear Handbrake accused me of sounding like a whingeing pom and suggested people would stop reading my blog if I sounded too stroppy (not that many people ever actually started reading my blog). I can handle losing $6,000 quite philosophically but when someone mucks with the Eurovision Song Contest, my Dear, I think I am entitled to get angry. It's an ethnic thing. I come from England. It's a matter of national pride.

Tuesday, 27 May 2008

Bloody typical ! We get four TV channels here in sunny Chillagoe; ABC, SBS, 7 and Imparja. Every year SBS puts on the Eurovision song contest and it's one of the few things I really look forward to on TV. I managed to catch the first semi-final and eagerly turned on the TV to catch the second semi-final only to be greeted with a blank screen. And so it went on for two nights while some joker in charge of satellite TV services managed to pick the worst weekend of the year to stuff up my viewing pleasure. Thanks for nothing whoever you are.

Wednesday, 21 May 2008

Given that I don't have a great deal of hair and I'm definitely not the one around here who's trying to keep up appearances (within reason) it has befallen to me to use up old shampoos that clutter up the bathroom, ones that overseas visitors leave behind, little bottles from motel room stays and anything that has fallen out of favour. So it is with the remains of the Garnier Fructis fortifying shampoo which seems to be very unloved these days. It is actually intended for anyone with dry, coarse or rebellious hair which makes me wonder why we bought it because that doesn't really apply to anyone here, least of all me, I barely have enough hair to comb let alone turn rebellious.

The bottle says it contains reinforced active fruit concentrate with fructose and glucose, vitamins B3 and B6, fruit AHAs (whatever the bloody hell they are ?) and fortifying lipid. That's nice and obviously accounts for the very tangy citric smell although I can't help thinking every time I use it that it also smells like cat's pee. Perhaps this is why everyone else has stopped using it ?

I had my hair cut the other day. I only hope the hairdresser's nose doesn't work on the same wavelength as mine.

Tuesday, 20 May 2008

Yesterday morning the iron malfunctioned or rather the lead did. Sparks were coming out of it down at the plug end (probably not a good sign) where the wires were protruding from the fabric sheath. I guess it wasn't earthing otherwise our system would have tripped out. Fortunately a suitable replacement has been obtained which will allow The Handbrake to happily continue her wifely duties without interruption.

The washing machine is also on the blink. After 9 years of faithful service (except for a couple of replacement pumps) the gearbox has decided to dispense with any form of lubrication and dumped a load of oil on the concrete floor of the laundry. Mr Repairman says it's not worth fixing but could continue to run 'dry' for some time before finally expiring. Either that or the weird noises its making will force us to buy a new one in due course. Sadly it doesn't look as if it'll be making the big trip to Brisbane with us in the new year.

Sunday, 18 May 2008

Today we finally bought a wooden toilet seat. A snip at $67 up at Bunnings. I can't tell you how long I've wanted a wooden toilet seat.

And in a disgusting display of rampant consumerism I ordered £60 of CDs from Amazon. Stage 1 of replacing my old cassettes which are no longer playable - because we don't have a cassette player any more. The Yes Album, amongst others, I can't wait.

Saturday, 17 May 2008

I'm one of those people who keeps stuff, records mostly, old phone accounts, bank statements, often well past their 'useful by date'. In recent years, assisted by The Handbrake's non-hoarding tendencies I've actually thrown stuff away. Except on the computer, where the statistical clutter doesn't look so obvious and I can get away with it.

I even keep records of the plane flights I've been on, although the list is incomplete in the late 1980s and early 90s when I was probably more than a bit preoccupied trying to put up live with my ex. I've just updated the spreadsheet with my latest return trip to work. 1007 flights, no wonder I'm getting sick of it. I've come a very long way since I was a young lad cowering on the floor of a Cessna on my first joy-flight at an RAF air base in the early 1960s. I'm not frightened any more, just bored.

On the plus side I've got an indecently large pile of frequent flier points.

Hurrying through Brisbane airport the other night I heard someone calling my name. I looked around quickly but recognised nobody and hurried on, assuming it wasn't aimed at me. Then I heard it again and looked around a bit more closely. A former colleague hove into view, much heavier than when I saw him last but he's had major financial issues and life hasn't been easy for him these last few years. He has easily added some 30 kilos, if not more, and looked positively unhealthy.

Then, a couple of nights ago, while I was finishing off my nightly phone call to The Handbrake, I turned a corner in Townsville and saw a familiar looking young woman unloading a 4WD outside the motel I'd already checked into. She was stacking no end of baby-stuff, pushchairs and other infant paraphernalia, onto the motel's luggage trolley and simultaneously trying to stop it from rolling off the pavement into the side of the car. It was quite funny to watch but all the more so since I actually knew the lady concerned. I rang off and offered my assistance. It had been 18 months or more since we'd last had a chance to catch up and we ended up getting through the best part of a bottle of wine before I headed for my room at 11.30 which was just as well because I had to get up next morning at 4.30 to catch another sodding plane.

On a sadder note, one of the chaps at a nearby work-place went to the doctor's with a bad stomach ache a few weeks ago. He was buried last week. Yes, the big C, the discovery was far too late to do anything about it. In his mid 50s.